Lupo

Chapter Three: Handshake.

 What am I doing!?

All at once feeling very aware of herself, Darcie attempted to remove Sebastian's hand from her back. He spared her another, rather louring glance before withdrawing it himself, choosing instead to boldly clasp her hand within his own. She blushed furiously. Her hand was tingling again beneath his firm grasp, and this time she involuntarily let out a very small, lusty moan of frustration. A familiar ache was beginning to form between her thighs. She frowned confusedly and shook her head.

It must be the alcohol. 

Again, Bash turned to frown at her, but apparently chose not to comment on the humiliating and rather telling noise she had made. Instead, he drew her in closer to him, his leathers rough against the bare skin of her arm. Darcie, physically unable to pull away, merely sobbed.  "Where would you like to sit?" he asked quietly, and Darcie almost moaned again at the sound of his voice. "There are benches just round the corner?"

Darcie shook her head in attempt to clear the buzzing in her ears. "Err...Yeah!" she all but gasped, twisting round to gaze up at him through rather blurred vision. "I know the place, thanks. I'll see you later..." 

She once again attempted to tug her hand out of his grasp. Much to her annoyance, Sebastian only hung on tighter and  squeezed her sweaty hand within his own.  

"Oh, I'll come too!" he replied good-naturally, turning to her with a tentative smile and indicating the leather jacket and alpine-stars bike slacks that he wore. "I'm not exactly dressed for clubbing anyway."

Darcie couldn't help but to scan his appearance with admiration. Though, she had to admit he was right; he really wasn't dressed for a club. In fact, she was surprised he'd been able to get past the bouncers at all. He looked like a guy who was out for trouble. In addition to his size, his expression of severity, and his attire, Darcie could see the edge of a tattoo just peaking above his collar in the light from the street-lamps outside.

Who gets a tattoo on their neck!?

Once they were both clear of the alleyway, Sebastian released her hand to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. This provoked an almost electric shudder to shoot up her arm from her tingling fingers and settle in her chest as a rather sharp pain. Darcie gasped and rubbed the spot with her free hand, frowning confusedly through her sudden fatigue. It felt like someone had placed a stick between her ribs and was slowly twisting it - like a stitch you get in your side after running too soon after eating.

Sebastian tightened his grip on her hand slightly 

"Dont worry." he murmured, his voice impossibly deep and smooth. "It wont hurt so much after a while..."

How exactly he knew this had barely occurred to Darcie before another wave of pain hit her. She stumbled and half fell onto an empty bench, tugging herself out of his grip as she did so. The aforementioned biker boy followed suit, sliding onto the seat beside her, far too close for comfort. Darcie folded her arms across her chest and shifted slightly, her discomfort and alarm rising by the second. The buzz of the tequila had seemingly worn off and now she felt rather less bold and distinctly more nauseous and shy. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be back at home and in bed. She wasn't entirely sure what had caused this sudden and dramatic change in temperament, yet she knew that the impossibly large man beside her was making her uneasy. Her eyes were fixed firmly upon the gum speckled pavement in front of her, yet she could feel him watching her, studying the side of her face and her hunched, defensive form.

She heard him chuckle softly and a thrill of genuine fear thrummed through her.

"You ok?" he probed, placing a hand upon her back and inclining his head towards her in a gesture of concern. " Does it feel any better?"

Another stab of pain seemed to assault her heart as he spoke. Darcie shook her head in an attempt to clear the sudden buzzing in her ears. "I don't feel well." she mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else. "Maybe I've had too much."

Sebastian gave her a very small, grim smile and rubbed her back soothingly. " I can take you home if you like?" he murmured, his minty breath fanning the side of her face. "Or get you a taxi? I'm sure Tito's ready to call it a night!"

Almost at the mention of his name, Darcie heard Tito's voice cut through the haze of pain and fatigue which were currently surrounding her.

"Baz, you horny bastard!" she heard him cry, followed by the sound of his shoes clipping the pavement as he jogged out of the club towards them. "What...Oh! Darcie? You ok?"

Darcie barely registered the question before Tito all but threw himself down upon the ground opposite her, dragging an irritated looking Laela along with him.

"What's going on?" he demanded , glancing from his cousin, to Darcie and back again. " You kidnapping my women, again?"

Sebastian withdrew his hand from Darcie's back, folded his arms across his chest and snorted in derision.

"Darcie's tired." he announced, his leathers creaking slightly as he shifted in his seat. " We're leaving now."

Tito's frowned deepened as he ducked his head in attempt to see into Darcie's face, half covered with her hands.

"You all right, Darce?" he probed, patting her knee consolingly. "This isn't like you. You're usually the last to leave!"

Darcie shook him off, nodding distractedly. Her head was thumping dully in her ears and, in-spite of Bash's reassurance, the pain in her chest had seemed to worsen slightly. She hunched over herself and rubbed the spot impatiently, gritting her teeth and grimacing.

"Yeah I dunno. I feel weird. Maybe I drank too much..."

Tito eyed her suspiciously. Bash, seemingly growing tired of Tito's obtuseness, sighed exasperatedly . Unfolding his arms again he propped his elbows on his knees and leant forward so he was at eye level with his cousin. 

"She's tired!" he murmured, his voice lowering to a quiet rumble. "We need to get her home..."Darcie heard him mutter a few more unintelligible words in English before the two men fell back into their mother tongue and began to converse animatedly in Spanish. Or Italian. Or double Dutch. In her inebriated state Darcie couldn't tell. 

After a few seconds of this whispered conversation, Tito's mouth fell open.

"Que no!" he hissed, staring at his cousin in wide-eyed disbelief. "Mierda!"

Darcie frowned at him. He had such a look of stupefied incredulity upon his face that she almost laughed in spite of herself. His eyebrows had risen so high they looked to be in serious danger of disappearing altogether into his hair.

What the hell was going on?!

Sebastian nodded gravely. "Ella es mia." he announced, wide eyed and looking rather dumbfounded himself. "Ya era hora!"

There was a split second of silence before Tito erupted into shouts of delight. Scrambling to his feet, he launched himself at Sebastian, who - though grumbling at the assault - was laughing, albeit nervously.

"Dios Mio!" Tito shrieked, before lapsing into incoherent yells of Spanish. "Chico Malo!"

Darcie leant away from them both and screwed her fists into her eye sockets in attempt to distract herself from the pain in her chest. Her head was spinning, her face was hot, and she was growing more and more lethargic by the second. Dark spots were beginning to cloud her vision. Certainly, she was in too much discomfort to care about Tito's odd behaviour.

A dainty, perfectly manicured hand found its way onto her knee and Darcie looked up to find Laela studying her with something akin to concern upon her beautiful face.

"Darcie, can you breathe?" she asked quietly, her French accent softening the words as she spoke them. "Are you going to faint?"

Darcie peered blearily back at her. Leala's blonde hair was beginning to fade into her features and her surrounding's were beginning to blur together. She swallowed.

"I...I don't..." she began, grasping the edge of the bench and swaying slightly. "I'm.."

But that was all she could manage to choke out before her vision clouded totally and everything went dark.